An Army of Superior Beings
by paradisemomiji
Summary: When the government is need of exceptional intellect, Mycroft knows exactly who fits the description. But it seems that Sherlock and John are sort of a package deal. And despite the circumstances, John isn't the only one committed to their friendship. Featuring a cross between BBC's Sherlock and Star Trek: Into Darkness.


Mycroft sat passively. He was looking down at the tea Mrs. Hudson brewed for him, stirring it gently. Sherlock was sitting in a chair opposite him, his posture leisurely but his eyes intense.

Mycroft had decided to pop in at a convenient moment when John was out and Sherlock wasn't completely absorbed in a case. It was coincidental, surely. He just wanted to see his brother, he had explained to Mrs. Hudson as both boys gently cajoled her out of the flat. But of course it was more than checking in. Mycroft carried with him a discretely unlabeled manila folder, which he handed to Sherlock without explanation. Sherlock flipped through the reports and photos, clucking softly. Without looking up, he muttered mockingly loud enough for his brother to hear: "Oh, you bad boy. What have you done now?"

The brothers sat across from each other in a quiet show of who could seem more unconcerned. But they were bluffing; Mycroft was nervous, Sherlock could tell, and Mycroft could sense Sherlock's curiosity.

Mycroft stopped stirring and motioned lightly to the file now resting on a table next to Sherlock. He knew Sherlock had already deduced the situation, annoyingly, but an explanation was still in order. "This serum," Mycroft began, referring to the subject of the files, "has the potential to create humans with unimaginable abilities." He paused for effect. "Mental abilities among them."

Sherlock looked intently at Mycroft from over his tented fingers. "Why?"

Mycroft grinned wryly, understanding Sherlock's question. For what purpose does the government need super humans?

"As a weapon," Mycroft explained, knowing that Sherlock was looking for a more specific answer. "For the benefit of the populace," he tacked on the end as a formality. "An army of superior beings, under government control" Mycroft trailed off a tad dreamily.

Sherlock snorted. He stood up and looked out the window. "Of course. And you came to show me this for the sake of reconnecting with family?"

Mycroft placed his tea on the table with exaggerated care, then spoke slowly. "The serum has the highest chance of success on participants with above-average intelligence. The government would like to have the best rate of success possible."

Sherlock barked with laughter and whirled around to face Mycroft, a sneer in place. "I do not need an injection to make me superior, Mycroft. Nor do I have any desire to become the government's guinea pig."

"No, I didn't think you would." Mycroft stood up to leave. "But I thought I would warn you about the upcoming surge of people who will make you seem... downright average, don't you think? You'll finally fit in, brother."

Sherlock stood stiffly, looking after Mycroft. Sherlock appeared unaffected except for the panic in his eyes. There was a pause in which Mycroft collected his umbrella and jacket and headed for the door.

"What must I do?" Sherlock said quietly to Mycroft's departing back. Mycroft grinned to himself and turned around triumphantly.

John tracked Mycroft down in a building with the air of an exclusive club. Old men sat around in excessively comfortable red armchairs, playing chess and smoking cigars but not speaking. John made a general commotion until he was taken to Mycroft.

Mycroft was sitting in one such armchair, passively sipping tea. John sat across from him, leaning forward in his seat aggressively.

Mycroft explained his actions. "We had to detain him. The government can't afford to have his kind walking around London." He spoke as if it was a foolish thought. Though, perhaps it was.

"You can't just keep him locked up forever!" John growled.

"On the contrary, I believe I can."

John leaned back, looking struck. A pause. "I need to see him again."

"I'm afraid that isn't possible. The subjects are not allowed to associate with the public. The secrets they could reveal... It's for the safety of the British people, you understand."

John just looked at him. Not really with hatred, but more with a sort of reserved desperation. "What if—what if I took this serum?" John asked hesitantly.

Mycroft did not need to question his motives. They were obvious. He just tilted his head. "The serum only works on those of advanced mental prowess. You won't make it."

John's face sank into being sort of rejected, trampled. But then he thought of the empty flat, and looked at Mycroft with determination. "Worth a shot."

Khan stood in a laboratory littered with metal parts and wires. He looked down on a metal capsule, both sadness and bitterness in his eyes. Looking into a small glass pane on the capsule's surface, Khan saw the completely slack face of a memory from another age, another time.

Khan's fingertips brushed the pane lightly, as if to touch the face beneath. "I will get you out of there soon enough, my friend. I'll take us away from them," he whispered, his breath fogging the pane. He prepared the missiles.

**A/N: Benedict was so protective of his frozen kin during Into Darkness that I figured Martin had to be in one! But John was asleep the entire time, so he wouldn't know how touching Sherlock was being. I wonder if John had a different name? And did John come to match Sherlock's wit, or was Sherlock superior to even the other serum participants? And did Sherlock actually care about that many people? I guess it would help if they were all so intelligent and superior. But alas. Questions I cannot answer.  
Plus, they were together for Hobbit and Sherlock. I had to write a fanfiction to make sure Martin and Benedict can't get away from each other. =D**


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